Harry Potter and the Invisible Strings
by Shonushka Aurelie Sen
Summary: After Umbridge passes Educational Decree Number Twenty-Five and Harry and the twins get banned from the Quidditch team, Hermione comes up with an idea for revenge: pranking Malfoy and Umbridge the Weasley way, with just a touch of Granger panache thrown in. Read and Review!
1. Hermione Has a Plan? Goody!

Enjoy! I love pranking stories, and my dad used to tell me a simplified version of this when I was little and couldn't sleep. I decided to share my favorite bedtime story with you all :3 review!

* * *

"Umbridge's gone too far this time!" snarled Angelina Johnson, Gryffindor Chaser, as she stalked through the portrait hole to the common room. The effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that she was crawling in on her hands and knees, but the first-years withdrew to the south end of the room anyway.

"Why, what's she done now?" asked Hermione, looking up from a massive sheaf of Transfiguration notes. Ron raised his head from his game of Gobstones, and the golden marbles sent a jet of foul-smelling black liquid into Harry's face.

"Ron, you couldn't have waited one more second to knock that Gobstone this way?" Harry grumbled, but shot the furious Quidditch captain a questioning glance anyway.

"Look at what she's passed!" hissed Angelina, thrusting a newspaper clipping into Harry's face. He took it in his hands and looked down at it curiously. Ron leaned over his shoulder to look. Hermione gave it a cursory viewing and returned to her notes.

"Educational Decree Number Twenty-five?" she asked. "I was wondering when she was going to churn it out."

Harry hardly heard her; his stomach was carefully tying itself into complicated knots.

" _The High Inquisitor will henceforth have supreme authority over all punishments, sanctions and removal of privileges pertaining to the students of Hogwarts, and the power to alter such punishments, sanctions and removals of privileges as may have been placed by other staff members,_ " he read. Ron's face went ashen, and his burgundy brows contracted as an unpleasant thought forced its way into his mind.

"Malfoy's going to be bloody unbearable now," he groaned. "If only I hadn't been such a-"

"Ron, none of this is your fault at all," Hermione said, looking up from her work again. "It's Malfoy's fault-him and his stupid song-" Her hands curled into fists, and Angelina's eyes widened in surprise.

"Merlin, Hermione, I thought you were expecting it," said Angelina. "I certainly wasn't. Umbridge hasn't even put up the notice on the bulletin boards yet. My cousin works with the Daily Prophet, and she sent me a clipping from tomorrow's paper."

Hermione was silent. Harry and Ron could see all too well that she was thinking furiously, and Harry stopped trying to wipe the Gobstone excretions off his face as he studied her.

"We've got to find a way to make them both regret everything they've done," said Hermione. Her eyes lit up. "Harry, you and Ron remember the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room, don't you?"

"Er...yes," said Harry, all too aware of the first-years listening in. "But what does that have to do with anything?"

"If you hang around the entrance with the Invisibility Cloak tomorrow and wait until you hear someone say the password, I'll have something for the both of you to do. I'll take the Umbridge side," she said busily, getting up. "I've got to go get ready. Or, no, go now; the Slytherin passwords are changed every week rather than every other, and they must have been changed today. They'll be reminding each other of the new password and you should easily be able to hear it without being noticed." With that, Hermione climbed out of her chair and went over toward the portrait hole.

"Where are you going?" called Angelina.

"The library," said Hermione. "We still have an hour before curfew. Ron, Harry, get the cloak and go down to the dungeons."

"Why is she going to the library?" asked Harry as Hermione disappeared.

"Because that's what Hermione does," said Ron, shrugging. "When in doubt, go to the library."

* * *

Ron and Harry were on their way down to the Slytherin Common Room.

They were lost.

"I'm sure we took that turning with Malfoy back in second year," said Harry, looking right and left. "We should go this way."

"No, that's the Slytherin entrance into Snape's classroom," said Ron. "I think we're in the wrong hallway altogether."

At that moment, Draco Malfoy strode down the hall, going the way they had entered. Crabbe and Goyle were behind him, looking more like stunned gorillas than ever.

"What's the new password again?" asked Crabbe, scratching his head.

Malfoy sighed in exasperation. "How many times do I have to tell you? It's 'exigence' and you shouldn't ask in front of the Hufflepuffs. They could hear you."

"I don't see any Hufflepuffs," said Goyle, passing right beside the spot where Harry and Ron hid beneath the Invisibility Cloak. They sucked in their stomachs as the trio hurried (Malfoy) and lumbered (Crabbe and Goyle) down the corridor.

Malfoy threw up his hands. "No, the last time you asked was at dinner, and there was a gang of Puffs right behind us! You two haven't much more than a thought between the both of you."

Harry and Ron followed the two into a second passage, where they met the blank stretch of wall that concealed the Slytherin common room.

"Exigence," said Malfoy in a bored tone. As the three Slytherins vanished through the door, the Gryffindors heard Malfoy's voice as it faded away. "Come on, I need to tell you about Professor Umbridge's new decree..."

"Well, now we have the password," whispered Harry. "And now we know where the common room is, too. Let's go."

The two returned to Gryffindor Tower twenty minutes before curfew. Angelina had gone up to the girls' dormitories, and the younger students had gone up to bed. The fire was burning low, and an exhausted but jubilant Hermione was sitting with her homework by the hearth. By her side lay a fat blue book, entitled, 'The Eserine Guide to Pranks."

"Did you find out the password?" she asked, flipping the book open on her knee.

"Yeah, it's 'exigence'," said Ron. "What are you doing with the Eserine Prank Guide?" he asked. "That's-"

"Fred and George's, I know," said Hermione, nodding. "I found the spells I was looking for in the library, but I asked the twins for help with the prank itself."

"We're pranking Umbridge? After this new decree?"

"Technically, she hasn't put it into effect yet," she pointed out. "But this prank will be specific to her-and Malfoy."

"What's the plan?" asked Harry.

"I was reading about a Signus Charm...you know, the one Professor Flitwick mentioned yesterday. The charm that can be keyed in to recognize a person's magical signature. It's generally used for wards, and it requires contact between the caster's wand and that of the magical signature in question. If we place a Signus Charm using Malfoy's wand on a rope tied across the doorway to the Slytherin boys' dormitory, it'll descend only when he passes by, and he'll trip and fall flat on his face."

"Brilliant," Ron breathed. "And Umbridge?"

"The Great Hall, so everyone can see," said Hermione. "And we can enchant that one to recognize Malfoy, too."

"There's just one problem," Harry pointed out. "How on earth are we going to get hold of Malfoy's and Umbridge's wands?"

"I've already thought it all out," said Hermione. "Professor Flitwick is starting his weekly wand-polishing regime tomorrow."

"What?" asked Harry and Ron in unison. Hermione groaned.

"Honestly, don't you two ever listen?" she asked. "It came out in the monthly Charms journal last week that wands polished less than once a month tend to become less adept at spellwork over time. It's not definite how accurate that is, but Professor Flitwick bought a few jars of special polish anyway. He's going to collect our wands in a box tomorrow while we self-check the homework and polish them himself and see if our work improves significantly enough over this month to pay any credence to the study."

"So one of our wands will probably have contact with Malfoy's while they're being collected?" asked Harry. "What if they're not?"

"Well, there are three of us and eighteen students in our Charms class," she said. "If one of you volunteers to pass the box around, you can shake it a little before you hand it over to Flitwick, or discreetly touch one of our wands to Malfoy's. Preferably mine, because I'm going to be casting the spell."

"That's simple enough," said Ron. "And Umbridge?"

"That's relatively simple," said Hermione. "She usually holds her wand in her hand as she goes up and down the class, so one of us can pretend we saw a mouse or something and grab it out quickly to send a Stunning spell before she has a chance to do anything. I'll take care of that."

"And then?"

"And then we wait," said Hermione, a catlike grin spreading over her face.

"So touching their wands with yours will do it?"

"Any wand can cast a Signus charm to recognize the signature of any other wand it has touched before," said Hermione.

"Let the fun begin," Ron murmured, a smile coming to his face for the first day since the disastrous Quidditch match.


	2. Jellyfish and Chocolate

I'm back with my update! Enjoy, everyone! :D

* * *

"Who was Udric the Ubbly?" asked Harry, lying on his stomach on the hearthrug before the fire. His History of Magic textbook lay open to a chapter titled "Eccentrics and their Eccentricities."

"He was an extremely accomplished member of the Transfiguration's Guild from 1820 to 1861, when the American Civil War began," said Hermione, bent over a complicated-looking checklist with one of the Weasley twins on either side of her; Fred sat at her left hand, and George at her right. "In 1853, he sustained a bad sting from an enchanted Portuguese man-of-war and it was affixed to his head with a permanent sticking charm. However, Udric eventually discovered that the jellyfish was actually a young woman called Medusine, who had been cursed by a Stasis jinx while in her Animagus form. Udric lived with Medusine attached to his head for the rest of his days, and she gave him tremendous help with his work until the Guild took a decade-long recess when the American wizards had to go sort out the war in the West."

"How do you remember all that?" asked Ron, who sat cross-legged beside Harry, attempting to write down everything she said.

"Because, ickle Ronniekins-" said George, stifling a smirk.

"Our dear Hermione is simply a marvel among witches-" Fred continued.

"And is not to be compared to lesser beings," they said together. Ron blushed, and Ginny chortled from her seat on the coziest sofa.

Hermione laughed and passed the bundle of History of Magic notes to Harry. He took them from her hands and stared at them with an exhausted sort of desperation. If not for the exam that Professor Binns had set for the following afternoon, he would have poked the sheaf of papers into the fire and watched it burn with glee.

"It isn't that hard, Harry," Hermione said gently. "Just remember that he had a jellyfish for a hat, and that the jelly was actually Sirius."

"What?" asked Fred, shooting her a quizzical glance. "What's Snuffles got to do with it?"

"The jelly was an animagus," she explained patiently. She narrowed her eyes and turned back to the twins. "Have you two figured out how I'm going to get hold of Umbridge's wand?"

"Simple," they chorused, and the pair leaned back against the sides of Hermione's chair. "Ickle Ronnie suggested it, actually."

"Did you?" asked Hermione.

"Always the tone of surprise," he said, seizing the notes and rifling through the pages so that Hermione's tidy chronological ordering was of absolutely no use to him or Harry. "Anyway, I worked with Fred and George on one of the Skiving Snackboxes they were developing over the summer," Ron explained, warding away Hermione's stern look at the mention of the twins' line of prank sweets. "They're called Imitation Infestations, and they make you see bugs all over your wand, or the object you happen to be holding half an hour after you ingest them. We tried them out on Bill; we ground one up into his soup, and while we were cleaning the curtains at Grimmauld Place, he screamed and said that thousands of beetles had bloomed out of nowhere onto the cloth. No one told him we'd pranked him, though."

"He thought he was going spare, bless his heart," said George, smiling beatifically as he recalled the scene. "It took mum a good twenty minutes to calm him down."

"So we give these to Umbridge? How?" said Ginny, who had taken an interest in the conversation and abandoned her Charms homework on an orange settee.

"Oh, that's easy," said Fred dismissively. "She orders boxes and boxes of fancy chocolates, and they come in the Wednesday post. The house-elves that handle the mail-order deliveries take them up to her rooms at six sharp, and she usually wakes up half an hour later and starts getting ready for the day."

"But lessons don't start until more than half an hour later," Hermione objected. "Wouldn't she just see the beetles in her treacle jug, or something? She'd be at breakfast half-an-hour after you plant the Imitation Infestations."

"No, no, no," said George, grinning. "The house-elves are rather fond of us, so we'll ask them to-ahem- _misplace_ the delivery, and send her a box of sweets with a card from Fudge on them. A card appreciating her hard work and all she's done for Hogwarts' severely deprived students. So she'll be sure to have her appetite for sweets up, and doubly likely to eat them because they'll have a lovely moving picture of Fudgie's face on the lid."

"That does sound good," mused Harry. "But you haven't explained how we're going to touch Hermione's wand with Umbridge's."

"Half-an-hour after breakfast, you lot have Defense," Ginny pointed out. "Don't you?"

"Indeed. So, with any luck, she'll see the bugs on her wand and will probably try to chuck it down the classroom," said George. "She'll definitely keep it on her, and she'll have it out, most likely."

"And when she does chuck it, you can pick it up, Mione," beamed Ron. "Then we're all set to go."

"You three really are brilliant," said Hermione. She yawned and cast an eye at the clock. "Merlin's pants, it's already one. We should all go to bed."

"We'll let the house-elves know about the sweets first, though," said Ron with a yawn. "You'd better go up to bed, 'Mione."

"I'm coming with you if you're going down to the kitchens," she said hotly. "You might all get caught, and then I'd have to explain."

"That would just be you in detention along with all the rest of us," he pointed out. "And anyway, the elves don't want to see you." He said this rather quietly, aware that Hermione's feelings would be hurt. "They're afraid because you hid all those hats around the common room."

Her face fell.

"Oh, all right," she said. "I'll just go up to my room then...I hope Parvati and Lavender are asleep by now,"

"Nah," said Ron, struck by a seemingly brilliant idea. "We can just summon one of them up here!"

"What?" asked Harry. "I thought you had to be a house-elf's master to summon it?"

"Well, the elves here work for Hogwarts, don't they?" said Fred. "Technically we're all their masters, and we can ask them to do things if we want to."

"Then how come the Slytherins don't have their elves running everywhere at their beck and call?"

"Most of them have their own elves, and the ones that choose to look after the Slytherins are used to it, anyway. The housekeeping elves are sort of divided into houses, too. But only a few of the students know that they can ask elves to help them-most of them don't even know that the elves exist, and the ones that do think they owe their allegiance to only Professor Dumbledore." said George.

"That's why we're going to call Dobby!" Ron chimed in. "Go on, Harry."

"Er-what?" said Harry, feeling foolish.

"Just say his name, and he'll come," Ginny explained. "You're closest to Dobby, anyway."

"Dobby?" said Harry, feeling, if possible, more foolish than ever.

There was a deafening _crack_ and Hermione jumped; Dobby the house-elf had apparated directly into the center of the Gryffindor common room, resplendent in a blue child's smock and a pair of fluffy slippers.

"Master Harry is summoning Dobby," he said, bowing so low that the tip of his pencil-like nose brushed the carpet. "I is willing to do whatever brave Harry Potter asks, sir." The twins sniggered, but Harry ignored them.

"Actually, Ron's going to tell you what to do," Harry replied, turning to the gangly redhead.

"Master Wheezy!" said Dobby, his eyes lighting up. "It is Dobby's honor to be serving Harry Potter's Wheezy!"

"Thanks, Dobby," said Ron, looking pleased. "I need you to stall any deliveries of chocolate coming into the school tomorrow morning, but to send a box that Fred and George'll give you-"

"Already got it, little brother," said Fred, brandishing a green box of bonbons, complete with a card bearing Fudge's name, photograph, and signature. As the group watched, he turned to his audience and flashed them a very Lockhart-esque smile. George passed the box over to Dobby, who looked at in awe.

"Right. Hold any packages of sweets in the kitchens until noon, but have this box delivered to Umbridge at breakfast," Ron finished. "Can you do that, Dobby?"

"Dobby would be pleased, Master Wheezy!" he cried. "Goodnight, Harry Potter and friends!" Dobby made a second low bow to the group and vanished with another _crack_.

"Well, that's that done," sighed Hermione. "Come on, everyone. We need our sleep."

* * *

The next morning, the twins were nowhere to be seen. Hermione fretted about it as the trio and Ginny made their way down to breakfast at a quarter past seven.

"Relax, Hermione," said Ginny. "They're probably putting their own touch on the prank, or making some more Snackboxes somewhere."

"What if it goes wrong?" said Hermione, worrying with a vengeance. "What if we're caught? What if we're expelled?"

"Don't worry, it's a Weasley prank, constructed and executed the Weasley way," said Ron comfortably.

"Yeah," Harry added. "With just a touch of Granger panache thrown in."

"Come on, let's just get our food," said Hermione, looking slightly consoled at the mention of 'Granger panache'.

During breakfast, the quartet of Gryffindors kept on flicking sidewise glances at the high table. Umbridge looked slightly peeved, which meant that her usual delivery of chocolate probably hadn't arrived, but there was still no sign of the twins' magnificent box of Imitation Infestations. Harry shoveled milk and porridge into his mouth at an alarming rate, and only looked up when Ron gave a low whistle.

"It's here," he said, jerking his head to the right. A large barn owl flew among the other mail owls, bearing a handsome green box. It soared the length of the Great Hall and deposited its burden before Umbridge before snatching up some of her bacon and taking flight again. They saw Umbridge smile and blush, and Ron buried his nose in a glass of orange juice to hide his smirk.

"Phase one-complete!" whispered Ginny jubilantly. "Good luck, you three-wish I could be there to see the fun," she said regretfully, rising from the bench and making off toward the oak double doors.

"You will be," Harry promised. "This is just one of the preparation phases."

* * *

"Wands away, everyone," Umbridge instructed, giving Harry a particularly nasty grin as she walked by his seat. He returned it with interest, and was pleased to see Umbridge's smile falter slightly at the sight of his slightly manic leer. Ron stifled a snicker at his right and glanced up at the box of chocolates lying open on the desk. It was obviously empty, and the picture of Fudge had been trimmed out of the card and placed lovingly in a little onyx frame beside the inkwell.

"Now, everyone, turn to page three hundred and ninety-four..." Harry's ears switched off. He laid his head on his copy of the defense textbook and arranged his hat neatly on top to serve as a makeshift pillow. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep...

...only to be woken fifteen minutes later at a _very_ loud shriek.

Harry opened his eyes and jerked blearily upright, staring right and left for the cause of the uproar. Most of the class was trying to hide their laughter; a handful of the Slytherins looked uncomfortable, and one or two seemed concerned. Dean Thomas was actually on all fours, helpless with giggles.

Umbridge was dancing up and down in the middle of the room, wriggling as if her life depended on it. She looked down at her wand hand and screamed again, flinging the wand away from her. Harry noticed Hermione slip noiselessly out of her seat, lost in the hubbub, and press the tip of her wand to Umbridge's. Umbridge squealed, her garbled utterances utterly indistinguishable. Seamus edged discreetly out of the room, keen on fetching Madam Pomfrey, an Hermione settled back into her chair to make a semblance of reading the assigned chapter.

Needless to say, there was no Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson for the fifth-years that morning.

And although she would vehemently deny it for the rest of her days, Madame Pomfrey might just have slipped the Weasley twins a bar of Honeyduke's best mint chocolate the next time they came in to tease her.


End file.
